Chapters:

It was a Saturday evening, atop a winding hill in an old
abandoned house. It was pouring and hardly anything was visible
in the onslaught of water, which made for the perfect cover up to
the crash-landing. Something - someone had landed in this
unsuspecting home. Everything was damp. The roof of the kitchen
had caved in, the windows were shattered, the tiles were cracked
and covered in debris, the cabinets had been crushed, the pipes
were bent and leaking water, and all that was left standing was
an marble island counter. On top of it, lay the child that came
crashing through. Her body lay limp, and her mind was settled in
an unconscious state. She was an odd being, what with her pastel
mint coloured hair, and her ruby coloured eyes, hidden behind
closed eyelids. Her long hair curled slightly around her neck and
chin as she breathed long, smooth breaths. But that peaceful
slumber would soon be rudely interrupted by a man who had been
ordered to bring her back with him - dead or alive.

Tebias was a man of power. A man of defiance. A man of severity.
A man to be reckoned with. He wore an attire of stealth, allowing
him to move through the night without a trace, and to be feared
by anyone who dared lay unwelcome eyes on him. With each step he
took towards the entrance of the kitchen, his thick combat-fitted
boot crunched down on scattered debris from the dismembered roof.
And with each crunch, it shook the child's sleeping mind further
towards consciousness. It wasn't long before she began to stir,
her body making faint, but noticeable movements as a whimpering
groan left her parted lips. With eyebrows pulled together, her
eyes slowly fluttered open, the pupils dilating and taking in
their new and unknown surroundings. Her dim ruby eyes squinted,
as they glanced about while her limbs began to trudge about the
counter top, making movements to sit up on the cold, damp marble.
Tebias stepped into the doorway of the kitchen as she lifted
herself up with weak arms to lay eyes on the man unknown to her.
A knowing grin tugged at the corners of his thin lips as he
looked over the vulnerable child who looked onto him with wonder
and confusion. He took a step towards her, shaking his head in
amusement as he took a look around the decrepit room.

"My word, Saphora. Look at the mess you've made…" he mumbled to
himself, kicking a wooden plank out of his way. The child
flinched and looked down at it as it was moved, before looking
back up at him, wondering who he was. He was in fact her hunter -
hand chosen. Saphora stayed silent as he continued to grow closer
to her, moving with careful and planned actions. He raised an
eyebrow, carefully examining her expression.

"… Why do you not run, I wonder," he said to her, tilting his
head, his slicked back red hair shifting in his ponytail. Saphora
moved her head back as he drew closer.

"Run?" she repeated, obviously not comprehending. With raised
eyebrows, Tebias was taken aback by her response, before the grin
that had been tugging on his lips finally broke through.

"Could it be…Do you know who I am?" he asked her as he would a
child. She timidly shook her head no. He let out a chuckle and
shook his head, giving a glance to the ceiling, before returning
to meet her confused eyes.

"What fun. And tell me. Do you know who you are, child?" he asked
her, leaning forward with an extended hand. Her chin lowered at
the question, her eyes darting to the side for a brief moment
before answering.

"…I am, Saphora?" she asked, more than answered, having heard
Tebias address her as such. He nodded and smiled, looking down at
the cracked tile.

"Indeed you are. And do you know…what you are?" he would question
her again. This time her brows pulled together as her lips parted
to answer. But nothing came out. She did not know.

"That's quite alright. You don't need to know. Just come with
me," he said, almost demanding it. But Saphora was hesitant, as
she should have been. She gently shook her head and began to move
back. But the moment that caught the eye of Tebias, his hand
slammed down on the counter, making her flinch and yelp, her eyes
going wide.

"Now," he breathed, his grin fading into a hard line. After
swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she sheepishly
began to slide forward, but was immediately stopped by an urgent
voice ringing in her head.

"No, Saphora!" it yelled in a whisper, stopping her completely.
The woman's voice rang in her ears as her eyes darted about,
while Tebias' hand gripped the edge of the counter in
frustration. His temper was not one to be toyed with.

"Don't listen…"

"Is there a problem?" Tebias asked with a snarl, making Saphora
refocus. She wasn't sure of what to say. She was still trying to
figure out what, and who she had just heard, and if she had in
fact actually heard it.

"Move," Tebias demanded. And once again, Saphora began to move
forward. But again, she was stopped by this ringing voice of a
woman, strangely familiar to her.

"You mustn't go with him, Saphora. Listen," she echoed into her
ears. And then with a grunt, Tebias reached forward, his patience
having been worn.

"Alright then," he said, going to grab her by the wrist. She
gasped as she was yanked forward by it, her face scrunching up in
pain and discomfort. She pulled her wrist back, only to have it
yanked on again, this time dragging her across the counter-top.

"No!" she shouted in protest, shaking her head and pulling in
resistance again, to no avail. Tebias pulled again, a frown
forming on his face as he pulled Saphora onto the floor, and
proceeded with dragging her out of the kitchen. Saphora's bare
heels dug into the floor as she desperately tried to use her own
weight as an anchor against his force. She clawed at his gloved
hand that was tightly secured around her wrist as she was
continued to be pulled. And then the voice rang again.

"Listen to me my child. Quickly! Repeat after me…" she whispered
in her ear. Saphora flinched and muffled her whimpers, long
enough to listen to the woman's words. Noticing the sudden lack
of resistance, Tebias turned around to look at the girl, who had
her head somewhat down, seemingly in deep thought. He tugged on
her wrist cautiously, making her trip forward, expecting a
reaction. But the one he got was something he was unprepared for.
Saphora's head snapped up, revealing her now wide, glowing white
eyes. Tebias almost immediately jerked back and released her
hand, so that he could raise his own in defense. But it was too
late. An immense amount of energy launched from Saphora's body
into him, sending her hair whipping behind her, and sending him
flying through three dry walls before finally landing unconscious
against the forth in one of the bedrooms. Saphora stumbled back
onto the floor after the ambush, her lashes fluttering as tears
welled in her stunned eyes. She took in gasping breaths as she
took in the sight before her, the dust and rubble slowly clearing
from in front of her. She coughed a couple of times before
wobbling to her feet, and leaning back on the marble counter,
which seemed to become somewhat of a sanctuary to her. Her
blurring eyes looked around as the woman continued to talk to
her.

"Now run, Saphora. Get out of there!" she yelled. And within the
instant, she took off, not exactly knowing where. She stumbled a
couple of times, holding onto the wall or whatever was around for
support until she found the front door. It had been kicked in, so
all she had to do was run out onto the driveway. She breathed
heavily as she looked around the abandoned lot. It had only just
stopped raining, so the air was moist and thick, making her drags
of breath longer and more strained. She took a quick look behind
her to be sure Tebias wasn't after her before she ran out into
the driveway, and then down the hill to where ever the winding
road would take her.

Present Day.

With a startling jump, she awoke from a dream all too
familiar. A memory of her first experience on Earth. The only
experience she could recall before the beginning of her new life.
Gripping the sheets that were now somewhat damp, she sprang up
into a sitting position and gasped for breath that she felt she
had lost. Looking around the room, she groaned, throwing her
fists up and back down on the mattress. She was tired of this -
of these dreams that she could never grasp. They always ended the
same way, leaving her in fear and anxiety. She wanted to get more
out of it. But that was proving to be more difficult than she had
hoped. So difficult in fact that she was seeking therapy for the
dreams. The memories. She, and everyone else were convinced that
the dreams were causing her headaches. So she attended therapy
twice a week to try and cure what had been determined to be
amnesia. Monday and Friday. Today was Monday. And her appointment
was in two hours, at one o'clock pm.

Saphora sighed, shaking her head and looking at the clock on her
bedside dresser that read 11:04am. Great, she thought.
I over slept. Now I'll have to fly there. Contrary to
what most people believed to be fun, flying took a lot out of
her. Sure, it was fun for a while. But Dr. Lupin's office was
almost thirty minutes away by flying - longer by car. Keeping her
concentration for that long put a strain on her, and added to her
constant headaches. It was funny, she thought. That sometimes
having to go see her therapist, the one who was supposed to be
treating her headaches, would be the cause of them. And some of
the worst. Exhaustion was one of the worst types of headaches.
Because not only was there pain, but there was also fatigue. She
didn't take it for granted, the fact that she could fly. But if
she could go about her day without it, she did. She usually only
flew when she was stressed. Being above the clouds always calmed
her nerves. And almost always helped put her to sleep. Because it
wore her down, it usually did the trick. Saphora hardly ever used
the gift for joy rides around the city. It just wasn't in her.
She didn't know how or when she had come up with the ability, so
in the back of her mind, she was always wondering when it would
be briskly taken away from her. She had always thought that it
would be, so she never wanted to press her luck. She never flew
too high. Just high enough to stay above the clouds. She never
went too fast, and she never did any tricks. She was a very
careful girl. Just because she could fly, didn't mean that it
would be the death of her.

She was ready in less than twenty minutes, and was out the door
in the next five. Fran had left a note on her dresser, reminding
her that she had an appointment today, and not to do anything
"rash". Which to her, meant not doing what she was about to do -
fly. Fran was the woman that found her on that fateful night. She
was one of the only things, if not the only thing, that made it
certain that her dream was in fact a memory. Saphora had gone
running down several streets, crying and screaming for help,
until finally a light in a nearby house turned on, drawing her
attention to it. Fran came out shortly after and went running to
her, fearful of what had happened that had caused such a reaction
in her. Fran eventually ended up taking her in, after failing to
find out where Saphora had come from or what had happened to her
parents, and ended up raising her as her own child.

She was very accepting of Saphora's abilities, Fran. But she was
also a very cautious woman. She was worried that if the wrong
people saw what she could do, that they would question, bully, or
even harm her. She believed that her little girl was very special
- and for good reason. And she didn't want anyone taking her
away, to do God knows what to her. So she was constantly warning
Saphora, although she didn't need to. Saphora knew all too well
the dangers of what could happen if she were to be found out. It
was unexplainable, which to the public, meant highly dangerous.
It wouldn't matter what Saphora said. She would be branded as a
threat to the United States, and therefore the world. Unless she
had done something to help everyone, like Superman, or Dr.
Manhattan. She would have to become a hero in order for the label
of threat to be removed. And that just wasn't in her. She wasn't
the hero type. So she always took Fran's words to heart. After
all, in every movie, if the target resisted if they were
found out, it was always their families that suffered in order to
get what they wanted.

But we're getting off the subject.

"Hello, Saphora. You can go right in," the secretary at the front
desk said to her.

She didn't even look up. She never had to. She always knew who
was coming in, and who was coming out. Saphora couldn't help but
wonder if there were cameras around the office. Some of which
would be facing towards the door. The screens of the cameras
could be on the computer that was in front of her, granting her
access to where everyone was.

Saphora nodded, walking past the desk and making an immediate
right down the hall to the elevator that would lead her to Dr.
Lupin's office. The walls in the hall, as well as a majority of
the office, were bland. They were a beige colour. Very dull. Here
and there, there were paintings, or what looked like paintings,
hanging up on the walls. Tulips, lilies, roses. The only source
of colour in the office. But they weren't actual paintings. They
were pictures of paintings. They had all the detail of the brush
strokes, with no texture. She knew because she had touched them
before, having once admired the paintings. They were, at one
point, the only thing she admired about the place. Now, there was
nothing. She only came to please Fran. Because frankly, there had
been no progress in her case since she had started coming nearly
three years ago. She understood that progress didn't happen
overnight. But to have never missed a session in three years, and
still have nothing to call an accomplishment? Of course, there
may have been the fact that she wouldn't take the medication
prescribed to her for her headaches. But she highly doubted that
that was the reason. After all. There was no medication for
amnesia.

It had gotten to a point where she had wondered if she minded
never remembering. Except for the nights that the dreams haunted
her. It had been almost sixteen years since that night, bringing
her to about the age of 22. They couldn't be sure, because she
didn't know how old she was when she was found. But those years
were more than enough time to create a new, comfortable life
without her past. Aside from the nights with dreams, she was
beginning to care less and less about whatever she was missing.
She would, however, like to know how she gained the ability to
fly. She remembered perfecting it, but not obtaining it.

"Ah, Saphora! Come in, come in," Dr. Lupin greeted, putting down
his cup of coffee. The scent filled the room, and Saphora's
nostrils as she entered the room. The bridge of her nose
scrunched up at the smell of it. But she knew that her nose would
eventually become immune to it, once a few minutes had passed.
She closed the door behind her softly, keeping the handle turned
until the door was shut before letting it quietly click back into
place.

She sat down in the chair in front of his mahogany desk, and gave
a faint smile. He returned it tenfold, making his glasses bounce
up as they were lifted by the roundness of his cheeks. As she
situated herself in the chair, she watched as the doctor took out
one of the many files about herself. She found it strange. She
and the doctor had only ever talked about so much and yet there
were as many as four binders filled with information. And unless
he was rewriting everything they had been talking about, she
doubted that there could be so much from just the small
conversations that took place. She had never seen what was in the
files, and had never asked. But each time she met with Lupin, her
curiosity of what could be inside grew.

He placed the fat binder on the surface of his desk with a
somewhat loud plop, before smiling up at her. She couldn't help
but narrow her eyes. It was things like that. The subtle
references of mocking that made her hatred for him fester. It was
like he was saying, "I have all this information - on you. And
you'll never get to see it." But again, she set aside her
feelings of distaste, and powered through for Fran.

"How're you doing?" he asked, looking up at her. She cleared her
throat.

"I'm alright, thank you. Yourself, doctor?"

He laughed and proceeded to open the binder, flipping through the
many sheets of paper, trying to find a specific area to stop at.
She didn't know what or where that was, but considering that they
always started with the repeating of her dream and/or memory, she
could only assume that it had something to do with that. He
grumbled softly as he flipped through, before chuckling again.

"You've been coming here for nearly three years, and you're still
so formal with me. Why's that?" he asked, taking a sip of his
coffee and pushing his glasses back up onto his nose. She
shrugged and answered simply.

"Because you're still in a formal position," he glanced up at
her, setting his mug back down with raised eyebrows.

"True … Why don't we get started?" he said, having found the page
he was looking for. She nodded, somewhat indifferently.

"Have you been waking up out of breath still?" he asked. She
nodded.

"Yes. I woke up like that today."

"I see. And yesterday?"

"No."

"The day before?"

"No."

"The day before that?"

"Yes."

"And before that?"

"No."

"I see," he said, scribbling away onto the page. Perhaps it was
some sort of chart, taking note of her sleeping patterns. That
was in fact what it was. But she couldn't be certain. The binder
was at an angle that prevented her from seeing it properly. She
watched as he wrote, before he started talking again. "And have
you been having any headaches when you wake up like that?"

"No. Not usually."

"Mhm," he hummed, writing again. "Well, they don't seem to be
worsening, just happening more often. You might start
experiencing headaches with them if they keep happening so
often," he noted. She didn't think that was the case, but she
nodded anyway.

"Have you been taking your medication?"

"Yes." Lie. She'd yet to take one pill in the three years.

"Do you need a refill?"

"No."

"Alright. Be sure to let me know when you do," she nodded. "Now
then … Have you remembered anything, since the last time we've
spoken?" he asked. She frowned, and shook her head. If she had,
she would have been anxious to let him know, and hear his
response, despite her opinion of him.

"I see. Can you tell me the night you do remember? About the
night you met Miss Mousescawits?" he asked, leaning back in his
chair. She sighed. She had been asked to repeat what she
remembered in every visit, regardless of the doctor. She figured
it was to see if the story would change at all. To see if she was
lying. Or maybe to see if anything had been added, that she
didn't realize she remembered. Either way, it was a process that
drained her. Because it didn't matter what else she could
remember about the night. It was before that night that she
wanted to remember, if she was to remember anything. That night
was unpleasant, aside from meeting Fran. And being made to
constantly repeat it only worked on her nerves. If anything, she
wanted desperately to forget that night.

"I woke up in a kitchen … Everything had been destroyed, but a
counter top. A marble counter top. This man walked in when I woke
up."

"Do you know what he looked like?"

"No, but he had red hair."

"Okay, continue."

"He asked me if I knew who he was. I didn't. And then he asked me
if I knew who I was. And I said Saphora."

"Why did you say that?"

"Because he said it."

"Did it feel right to assume your name was Saphora?" She nodded.

"Yes. I knew it was Saphora when he said it. Then he asked me, if
I knew what I was."

"What you were? What do you mean?"

"I don't know. That's what he said. I told him I didn't know, and
he told me to go with him. But a woman told me not to."

"A woman?" he repeated, leaning forward. She'd never mentioned
the woman before. A voice, yes, but it being a woman, no. Dr.
Lupin was intrigued. She slowly nodded. "You believe the voice
that spoke to you was a woman?"

She nodded again, and he began writing in the binder again. "I
see, I see. Go on. Did the woman sound young? Old?"

"She sounded like a woman." He nodded, and continued to write,
signaling her to go on.

"She told me to say what she said."

"What did she say?"

"I don't remember. But when I said it, the man fell back into a
wall. Then she told me to run. And I left the house, and ran down
the hill to hide from him."

He had stopped writing, and was now leaning on his desk,
listening intently. She stared at him, having finished her story,
and waited for a response. He looked on for a few more moments
before pushing his glasses back up.

"You… You said when you said what the woman said, the man fell
back?"

"Yes."

"Into a wall."

"Through three walls, and into the fourth." His eyes widened a
bit and his head slipped from his hand.

"Through three walls?" She nodded. "How?"

"I don't know."

"Were you hurt as well?" She shook her head.

"I fell back on the floor, but I wasn't hurt."

"How is that possible? Did you push him?"

She shook her head, but then hesitated. She didn't know. She
couldn't remember.

"I … don't know. I don't remember how it happened. Only that he
flew back."

"I see… Why don't we take a look at your back now?" he said as he
wrote a bit more. She nodded and stood, making her way over to
the bench in another part of the room. Once he was done writing,
he closed the binder, put it back in the drawer, and took out
another one not as thick, before locking the drawer. He made his
way over to his leather chair, carrying the binder and his mug.
Both of which he placed on an end table beside the chair, before
rolling up the sleeves of his button up collar shirt to his
elbows.

"Alright, let's see that back," he huffed, walking over behind
her. He was always doing that. Trying to fill in the looming
silence with something. He often repeated himself in order to do
so. Remembering that her hair was down, she quickly twisted it
around and pulled it over one of her shoulders, holding it in
place with one hand. She took in a deep breath as he pulled her
shirt back so that he could see beneath it. He studied the
intricate, oddly designed interlocking patterns that almost read
as hieroglyphics - because they were. When she had first started
coming to this man, the birthmark, as they called it, was only
located on the back of her neck. Since then, it has spread to her
right shoulder, and slightly down that side of her back. It was
off white in colour, a few shades lighter than her skin tone,
making it noticeable if it was being looked for, or at. It almost
looked like a white-ink tattoo, which it was often mistaken as.
They were on the verge of giving it another title. He stayed
quiet as he studied the area, his bare hands gently grazing over
certain areas that interested him.

She looked around the room as he took his mental notes. She
looked at his desk, the photos, the plants, the chairs, the
carpeting. Anything and everything that would keep her from
feeling like a case study. It was the part of the session that
she hated the most. Being made to feel like an object of
observation was one of the few things that could anger her.
Perhaps it was because that she secretly feared it. That by some
chance, the constant observation would give way to discovering
her ability to fly. And then just like that, she'd be hidden from
the world. The rumored infamous Area 51 would burst into the room
and take her to some quarantine to be analyzed and poked at. She
feared that at any moment the doctor would find something
alarming. Something odd that would draw attention to her. But as
always, after a few more moments of minimal observation, Dr.
Lupin released her shirt, allowing it to flatten against her
back, and moved to sit on the chair in front of the sofa.

"Well, it doesn't look like it has spread anymore since last
month," he concluded. She nodded, letting go of her hair, letting
it stay on her shoulder until her movements caused it to fall
back.

"Does it hurt at all?" he asked, making his way to his seat and
sitting down, crossing one ankle over the other, his hands
folding over his stomach. She shook her head no.

"Good," he mumbled, taking the binder into his lap and opening it
up to take notes.

"Alright. Let's talk about your dreams now. Have you had any
other ones? Anything strange?" he asked. She gave him a look. As
if her only memory of her existence wasn't strange. He cleared
his throat, nodding as he caught his mistake. "Right, I mean.
Well, any other ones that you haven't mentioned?" She hesitated
before answering, which made him curious and eager to press her
on.

"Well?"

She shook her head no.

"Are you sure?" She nodded.

"They just haven't been happening as often I guess."

"Oh. Well is that a bad thing?" he asked, jotting the note down.
She shrugged.

"I guess not?"

"Well I should hope not. Less nightmares are always a good thing,
right?" he asked with a smile, his glasses inching up over his
eyes. She stared at him - at the faux compassion, and nodded,
generating a smile of her own.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Walking out of the building, Saphora reached into her
back pocket for her phone, wanting to call Fran and tell her
about the session. She always called after each session. Not only
because it was Fran's request, but because she wanted someone
other than herself to keep track of what happened in the
sessions, in case she forgot. She did a lot of things like that -
to keep track of memory. She was somewhat paranoid of losing it,
knowing that she had before. She was conscious of the fact that
it could be taken from her again at any moment.

"Hi, honey." Fran greeted, picking up on the second ring.

"Hey, Fran."

She didn't call her mom. She never had, and she doubt she ever
would. It wasn't that she was trying to disrespect Fran, or
anything. But she knew that she was not her mother. And therefore
just didn't feel that she should be called that. She was grateful
for everything that she had done for her. But calling her mom
just seemed foolish. And Fran didn't seem to mind it. The
relationship did just fine without the title.

"How was the session today?" she asked, as she always did.
Saphora shrugged, turning right and heading down the street
towards home.

"Same as always. But I think I remembered something else, though
it doesn't seem-"

"Something else? What, what?! Tell me!" she urged excitedly.
Saphora had to move the phone away from her ear, the volume her
voice had reached was so high.

"It's nothing, really. Just this woman's voice."

"A woman? A woman was there with you that night? And she let you
face that monster all by your-"

"Fran! She wasn't there." Saphora groaned, rolling her eyes as
she walked down the semi-busy street of the small town outside of
her own.

There were flower shops, bakeries, antique shops, pawn shops, a
small record store, an even smaller library, and a café shop. But
that was just on this strip. There were some more shops along
with some more places to eat down the road and on various other
streets. Fran was silent for a moment on the phone and was
drowned out by the talking of the people that Saphora passed.
Talking about the weather, their sons' baseball games, their
friends who were being scandalous, and everything else that
Saphora could never seem to take interest in. But then Fran
finally spoke up.

"What do you mean she wasn't there, honey? You said you heard
her."

"I did. I heard a woman speak to me. But she wasn't there. At
least … I don't remember her being there," she explained, her
walking slowing as she entered her subconscious.

Was there a woman there? Saphora wasn't sure. She didn't remember
a woman being there. She just recalled being instructed to say
words, and that's what she did. But maybe she was there. After
all, how could she hear something that wasn't there? She wasn't
crazy, was she?

"Of course she must have been there, Saphora. Don't be
ridiculous. The nerve of that woman. Leaving you with that horrid
man," Fran huffed. Saphora knew she had her fist on her hip in
frustration, and she laughed.

"Well I'm alright now, aren't I? But yeah, I guess she was there.
She helped me, you know. You shouldn't be so harsh on her."

"Helped you? Helped you by doing what?"

"She … I don't know, she told me how to get away."

"Hmph. Well … I guess so. At any rate, I'm glad you remembered
something, honey."

Saphora scoffed. "Yeah, it's only been three years."

"That man has done nothing but help you, Saphora. You mind your
manners."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. That man has nothing but clean
out your wallet, she thought. "So what's new at the zoo?
Find any lost species of sea horses?" Saphora joked, walking past
the corner record store and making a right.

"Very funny. No, we haven't. But there is something new,
apparently. They won't tell us what it is, though."

"A surprise at a zoo? That's never good."

"That's what I said. But they're promising it's going to be the
biggest attraction since the lions."

"The lions. That's promising a lot."

"I know. I can't wait to find out what it is! What are you up to?
Are you heading home?" Fran asked. Saphora could hear the
rustling of papers mixed with the sound of a fax machine in the
background. She knew she was busy at work. She always felt bad,
calling Fran when she had work to do. But Fran always insisted,
so what could she do but comply? It always seemed to brighten her
day, even if she was swamped with work.

"Not yet. I'm going to head to the woods to blow off some steam,"
Saphora admitted, even though she knew that Fran wouldn't
approve.

She ran to a nearby tree, climbing it. She pulled herself as high
as she could to get to the branch that was furthest up, so that
she could make a clean jump without being spotted. Seemingly
jumping into the air, she rose herself up above what clouds there
were. She made sure she was high enough to pass as a bird or an
airplane from a glance. With a sigh of relief, she stretched,
before taking off to head deeper into the woods. She wanted to
think about this voice that she had remembered during the
session. It seemed to her that she had always remembered, but had
just forgotten to bring it up during the sessions. But hearing
herself bring it up today made her think about it. What
was that voice? And from whom did it come from?
She wanted to remember if there had actually been a person there,
or if she had in fact been hearing voices at the time. Because if
she was, then that was an entirely new thing she had to take into
consideration. That could put her whole opinion of the truth in
jeopardy. After all, hearing voices was not a natural occurrence,
right?

Right?

It was quite soothing, watching all the clouds pass her by. It
was like running your hand through a dream, as she reached her
hand out to touch them. They were a magnificent colour, with the
help of the setting sun. She smiled, stretching her arms out and
closing her eyes, letting her hair whip behind her and about her
face. Although she very much feared falling, she had a mixed
emotion about flying. On one hand there was the 'what if'. But on
the other hand, who wouldn't love being able to run their fingers
through a cloud and race with the birds? She took in a deep
breath and counted her blessings for being able to experience
such a feeling.

But that feeling was soon cut short.

She flinched upon hearing what sounded like a pain-riddled roar
erupt in the skies. She wobbled in the air, her limbs flailing
and struggling to keep her balance. Her heart skipped a few beats
when the realization that she could fall from such a height
quickly kicked in. Her eyes grew wide as her limbs continued to
flail before she fully regained her stability. She quickly
started to lower herself back to the ground when she realized
that there was a chance of falling. And then again, the roar
struck the sky, making her heart drop, and her balance waver
again. And then, almost immediately after the roar, a bolt of
pain struck the sides of her temples. A skull-splitting headache.
With a clenching scream, she gripped the sides of her head and
she fell the rest of the way, hitting three branches and then
finally a tree. She hit the tree with a loud thud, her body
curling around one of its thick branches. She coughed up some
saliva and mumbled in pain, as she gripped the branch for dear
life. Her shaking frame held onto the branch as she looked around
with her now blurred vision. She could hear her own breathing
blaring in her ears, as her heart pumped at about a mile a
minute. It happened. It had actually happened. She had fallen.
Because of a headache? No, that scream. What on
earth was that scream?

The tree was pretty high up, and what she heard next made her
heart stop for the third time in that minute. The trunk of the
tree began to crack. It was going to snap - fall. She had hit the
tree so hard, that it was going to fall. She moved herself into a
squatting position on the branch as quickly as she could in her
current amount of pain, and grumbled when gravity began to take
over, causing the tree to tilt forward. She swore under her
breath as the tree slowly began falling and jumped from it,
landing in front of its path. She landed with a sliding thud on
her feet and turned back to look at the falling tree, gaining in
speed. She cringed as another bolt of pain struck and crippled
her to the ground. The ear-shattering sound flooded her ears once
again and she felt herself tearing up. She didn't know at this
point if it was from the pain of her worsening situation or not.
She whimpered and held her hands to her temple, waiting for the
pain to stop. When it did she sighed in relief, but immediately
remembered her situation and looked up. Her mind raced as she
thought of what to do, but coming up blank. She could have moved
to the side and out of the way of the trunk, at least sparing
herself that. But her mind was far too tattered to concentrate on
such a simple action.

Not seeing any options, or enough time to move out of the way,
she covered her head and ducked, waiting for the tree to fall,
and prayed that it would somehow miss her by some miracle of
millimeters. She cried, her chest heaving as she thought of Fran
in what she thought to be her final moments. How she had always
told her to be careful, not to go too high. She should have
listened. Why didn't I listen? she thought. But what
happened only added to her astonishment. She heard the tree fall
with a loud crack, and felt the ground shake beneath her as it
did. Her eyes were closed tight as she waited for the onslaught
of pain. But none came. There wasn't even a hint of it. After a
few moments went by, she dubbed it safe to open her eyes, and
take a look at the damage that had been done. The tree had indeed
fallen, corrupting the natural layout of the ground around it
into a dent. But where she had been standing, the ground was at
peace. In fact, a significant area around her was at peace, as if
it had never been touched by the tree. Slowly, her hands returned
to her sides as she looked up in curiosity. The tree had been
bent upwards above her, almost like it had been snapped in half
to protect her. She stared at it in shock as she took a few steps
back from the destruction, trying to piece it all together in her
mind. What had just happened? Had the tree split on its own? Had
she done that? And if she had, how in the world… She kept
looking, along the entire tree, looking for answers but finding
none. She looked down at her hand, eyeing its shaking frame, now
with slight horror. She shook her head and looked around to see
if anyone had in fact seen what had happened. And indeed, there
was one.

A man. With … red hair.

Her body seemed to freeze, when her eyes came into contact with
his. His black eyes. Bottomless pits …

"Making a mess again, I see," the man laughed, shaking his head.

His arms were crossed as he stepped towards her. Menacingly. She
took a step back towards the tree, whose life had suddenly been
ended. Something inside her wanted to run. Her body was on edge,
her mind was drawing blanks, and she hadn't the slightest idea
why she wanted to cry. The man smiled as he continued to walk
forward and she continued to retreat. His head tilted and his
eyebrows raised as his arms lowered to his sides.

"I'm starting to think you remember me, Saphora," he said in
amusement.

And with the saying of her name, her fists clenched, and she
knew why she wanted to run. But it couldn't be. It wasn't real.
The night wasn't real. It was a bad dream. The dismay! To see her
nightmare before her. She had gone for so long wanting to prove
that her memory had in fact happened. That it could be validated.
And now that she was standing face to face with the man she had
feared the most in her entire life, she wanted it to be
everything but real. The man from that night is who he was. And
she was in no position to escape him. She took several more steps
back until he stopped walking and she nearly tumbled over.
This can't be happening, she thought. I'm seeing
things.

"And it seems like this time you feel like running! Could it be
that you remember it all now?" he asked, continuing to walk once
again. She took in a sharp breath, trying to remind her lungs how
to breathe. She took a quick glance around, wondering if it would
be best to scream for help. But given their location, she doubted
anyone would be able to hear her. But a part of her also wanted
to talk to the man, and find out who he was, and how he knew her.
But for now she stayed quiet, her mind having forgotten how to
speak.

"What's wrong? Why don't you speak? You remember me don't you?
Surely you must have many things to tell me," he said curiously.
And without thinking, she shook her head, which sent him into a
fit of laughter.

"You mean to tell me you still do not remember? You're making
this too easy now. It's been years, you know," he laughed, coming
closer. Her fists clenched again as he burst into laughter. She
wanted to get in on what was so funny.

"So tell me who you are. And why you're showing up again years
later, knowing who I am," she demanded, actually taking a step
forward. This made him stop, and tilt his head back up.

"My name is Tebias," he said bluntly. "I am hunting you."

Her head tilted back slightly at the harshness of the words.
Hunting? She didn't know what those words meant in that context.
Only she did, but didn't want to make the connection with what he
just said and herself. Not only did she have the urge to run, but
charge at him with everything she had in the same instance. She
didn't know which one she should have done first.

"Don't understand?" he asked, reaching for his hip, and unhooking
a weapon that resembled a gun of some kind.

Her eyes immediately darted to the previously concealed weapon,
wide and cautious. Her arm flinched, as if to protect herself,
and then her entire body flinched when hearing and seeing the
second half of the tree trunk to her left side slide forward
along with the movement of her arm. Both of their heads jerked in
its direction, and stared at it in bewilderment. It stopped when
she did, its branches still giving off slight movements as a few
dozen leaves fell from them. She turned back to look at the man
by the name of Tebias, and he turned to look back at her, now in
a crouching position. He honestly looked quite scared. Which
meant … He didn't do it. Slowly, he stood straight, and cracked
his neck, looking back at the now still tree trunk. He fixed his
attire and repositioned the weapon in his hand, clearing his
throat.

"Well that was odd," he said with a slight grin.

She shook her head a bit. He wasn't going to fool her. This tree…
What was she doing to this tree? She turned back to look at it
again in wonder, and he cleared his throat again, trying to get
her attention.

"As I was saying. I'm your hunter. I need you to come back with
me, or I might have to use this. I spared you this weapon before
because you were a child. But it seems I underestimated you," he
said with a grimace, walking towards her again. She swung her arm
out again, staring at the tree. But it did not move. She raised
her arm above her head, and still nothing. This made him laugh.

"What are you doing? Do you think you did that? Obviously the
tree just fell a little more," he said, rolling his eyes.

She stopped her moving and thought about that. It had been in a
position where it was susceptible to falling further. Her
suspicions died a bit as she thought about the logic behind that.
She turned back to look at Tebias, who was beginning to really
close the gap between them, making her retreat again.

"Who are you?" she asked again, having been lost in her thoughts.

"Why, I just told you. Is your memory really that bad?" he asked
in a soft voice.

"What do you mean, you're hunting me?" she asked, beginning to
feel like she was in a dream. Maybe she had actually fallen
unconscious in the tree, and she was now dreaming. It would make
sense that she would dream of him, after just talking about him
in her session with Dr. Lupin.

"Just as it sounds. You're hearing it right," he said with a
grin, spinning the weapon on his index finger, causing her
attention to be drawn to it. And then it was suddenly aimed
between her eyes, making them go wide as her body tensed. She was
in no dream. Her body would have startled her awake ages ago. No.
This was a living nightmare.

"So are you going to come with me, or am I going to have to use
this?"

"Go where?"

"That's none of your concern. It's a yes or no question."

"I think it is my concern."

His grip on the weapon tightened in frustration and she took an
uneasy step back, which he followed and then some.

"Yes or no," he repeated, his eyes narrowing while hers darted
about. Her heart rate quickened and her frame began to shake
again as he waited for her answer, which she knew to be no.
Sensing her answer, he shrugged and gave off a look of
indifference before speaking.

"Suit yourself. Such a waste," he said before going to pull the
trigger. She felt her body pulse with adrenalin as her arms moved
to guard her body, and her face buried itself into them. The time
seemed to expand and move so much slower, because she saw it all.
From under her arms, she watched the ground beneath her pulsate
and indent into the ground, almost like a ripple. And as she
panicked, her breathing quick even in this slow-motion vision,
she watched as the tree trunk as it was slung forward over her
and into Tebias. The bullet Tebias had fired had gone into the
trunk of the tree as it hit him, and sent him hurling into the
ground under it. She lifted her head with wide eyes and watched
him fly alongside the tree while his weapon was knocked into the
air and out of sight.

And then time picked up, and everything landed with a
ground-shaking thud. She seemed to be gasping for air when it was
all over. She watched as the tree rolled to a stop, the leaves
shaking subtly. She looked around at the other half of the tree,
which was now beginning to fall down on her at a rather quick
pace. She lifted her hands above her head, looking up at it in
horror, and then in disbelief when it stopped in midair, almost
like it was floating. She blinked, and stared, before even
considering moving her hands, in fear that if she did, the
seemingly magical tree would then continue to fall. But with a
sudden knowledge of what she was doing, or an involuntarily jerk
of her shaking body, she did just that. She shifted her hands to
the left, and the tree followed, falling onto the ground. She
huffed out a nervous laugh and looked down at her trembling hands
in awe. I did that? she thought. The tree … Did I
just move a tree?! And then another realization hit her,
once again. She had just seen Tebias. Tebias. His name
was Tebias, and he was real. But with what had just happened …
She looked over at the rummage of the one half of the tree trunk
that had fallen, slammed up against another tree with what she
knew to be Tebias under it. Had she just killed someone? Her
chest heaved at the thought, and she felt her knees go weak for a
moment. Even though the man had just tried to kill her, she may
have just killed someone. Her body shook as her mind started to
pick up in speed during her thought process. She started to
panic. What would she do?

"Oh my god … He's real. He's real, and he's dead," she said to
herself in a shaky voice, as she began to move her feet. In fear
that if she didn't, they would give in on her. Suddenly her world
was thrust into action. She'd waited all this time for some kind
of contact with her past, and now she was getting it -
physically. He was just in front of her. Talking to her.
Threatening her. Her head spun as she tried to recover from the
impact with the brick wall of reality. For the first time,
without paranoia behind it, she felt fear. Actual, logical fear.
Her hands fumbled for her back pocket, aiming to take out her
phone so that she could call Fran. But she stopped herself when
she heard movement from the branch that had been tossed. Her body
froze as her head slowly turned in its direction. It rocked, ever
so slightly, stabbing Saphora's heart with a surge of fear,
before slipping from the angle it was leaning at on another tree,
and falling to the ground with a loud, earth-shaking thud. With
eyes that seemed to be caught in headlights, she stared at the
tree, watching, and anticipating any sudden movements from it.
There were none in the next immediate moments. But she didn't
want to stick around to see if there would be any in the near
future. If Tebias was alive, she wanted to be as far away as she
could before he came to.

Making the wise decision to leave, Saphora took off in the
direction that would take her towards the zoo, where Fran worked
- or so she thought. She didn't want to go home - not where she
would be alone for the next several hours. She wanted to be in a
crowd. She wanted to be somewhere she could hide, where if she
was found again, it would be harder to get a hold of her. But
more than anything, she wanted to feel the safety of being in
Fran's arms, under her watch. Of course, that wasn't real safety.
Not from a man with a gun. But Saphora was frantic. She didn't
know where else to turn, or where else to go, except to the only
person she trusted would do her no harm after listening to what
happened.

After running for about a minute, and getting deeper into the
woods, Saphora began to lift herself into the air. She was doing
so hurriedly, causing her limbs to flail with the fluctuation of
her distraught concentration. She ended up running into a tree,
so to speak, and wrapping her body around the branch she hit. She
coughed from the impact to her diaphragm and gagged for air as
she tried to keep her grip on the branch. In the mists of the
chaos of her cracking psyche, Saphora felt her eyes begin to well
with tears at the stress of the trauma. Her chest heaved in a
sudden sob. Why didn't I listen to Fran? she thought
hysterically, blinking away the forming tears. This was too much.
What was happening to her? Why?

She lifted herself up on the branch with uneasy limbs, and
steadied herself to leap into the air. But during the moment of
takeoff, that same bone cringing cry struck her ears, and her
hands immediately went to cover them. Her concentration was
nearly shattered as she screamed and fell to the ground with a
crackle and a thud. The air left her lungs once again, and she
curled into a fetal position. Her hands gripped the thick grass
of the ground as her lips parted to wheeze and force air into her
crumbling lungs. Again she coughed, desperate to inflate them as
she lifted herself back onto her knees.

She couldn't fly. And the zoo was over an hour away on foot. The
tears began to well again. What if she couldn't make it to the
zoo before he woke up and came searching for her? She turned her
body to look behind her. Thankfully, there was no sign of Tebias'
recovery, if there was one to be made. Her head jerked back in
its previous direction with a sudden sense of ambition, filled
with the desperate hope that she had the time to get away. But
now that she feared flying, she would have to rely on other
methods of getting to the zoo in a timely fashion. Feeling her
lungs recover, she stood once again, and started running in the
direction that she needed to go. And while doing so, she dug into
her back pocket to reach for her phone once again. She speed
dialed Fran, and waited for her to pick up as she rushed through
the scattered trees, trying to get to the open road on the other
side. Fran picked up on the third ring.

"Hi, honey. You finished doing you-"

"Fran, he's real. I saw him! He's … He's …" she breathed as she
ran, being careful not to let the phone slip from her grip. "He
said he was hunting me, Fran. A tree fell! I fell when I was
flying, Fran, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she said in a slurring
cry into the phone, nearly tripping over herself. Fran shook her
head, stopping in the mists of her walking and pressing her index
finger into her other ear so she could hear her better. The man
who was walking with Fran slowed to a stop as well, turning back
and seeing the look of distress on her face. They were on their
way to the iguana exhibit. Fran pressed the phone against her
ear; there seemed to be static interference.

"Wait - What? Saphora, honey, slow down. I can barely hear you.
What are you saying?"

Saphora groaned, pushing her free hand against a passing tree to
give her a bit more speed. She gave a quick glance behind her as
she ran, to see if Tebias had begun to follow. He hadn't, but the
combination of her turning and hurried movements caused her to
trip over an uplifted root and tumble onto the ground. She
grunted uncomfortably, dropping the phone and tumbling a few feet
forward.

Fran's eyes narrowed and then widened when she recognized the
sounds of movement of pain. She bent over herself, pressing the
phone to her ear in worry.

"Saphora? Saphora!" Fran shouted, alarming some of the people
that were around her, including, Brad, her coworker. He came
closer, worried but not quite sure what to do.

Meanwhile, Saphora was slowly getting back onto her knees for the
third time, while looking around for her cell phone. She could
hear Fran yelling on the other end, and it helped guide her
hand-ear coordination. She succeeded in finding the phone, and
stood up, placing it back against her ear and immediately
starting to run again.

"Fran, he's real!"

"Who's real? What just happened? What was that?"

"I fell, Fran. I heard this noise and it was awful and I fell
into a tree and the tree fell only it didn't fall and-"

The phone's connection was beginning to worsen, no doubt due to
the dense area of forest she was currently in. It wasn't long
before the phone beeped and cut out completely, losing the
signal. Saphora whined, listening to the line go dead, and looked
at her phone in utter disbelief and propelling sorrow. In a
hurried trial, she tried dialing her number again. But with each
attempt, all she got was the distant beeping on the line, telling
her that there was no service. With a huff of frustration she
stuffed her phone in her pocket and picked up her speed. She
thought that maybe if she could get to the road, she could have a
good enough service to reach Fran. She could tell her where she
was, and get her to come pick her up. She had to tell her what
happened. That the story she had been telling for all these
years, and blindly defending, was actually fact. Facts that left
her with so many more questions. But none that currently had any
time to be answered.

Meanwhile, Fran was at the zoo, still standing in the middle of
the pathway, yelling into her phone.

"Saphora? Saphora! Hello? Saphora?" she repeated again, and
again. Brad, who was beginning to get more concerned, stepped
closer to Fran, wanting to know what was wrong. Fran's eyes were
beginning to tear up, and Brad, like any other sensible man, did
not want to have a woman crying - especially not beside him on a
crowded path.

"Fran, what's wrong? What happened to Saphora?" he asked, placing
a comforting hand on her shoulder. She immediately sprang up and
grabbed onto his other arm with her free hand, somewhat startling
him.

"She's in trouble. She's never in trouble, Brad. She said she
fell out of … in the woods. I lost her signal. She sounded like
she was hurt," Fran said, trying to level the wobbling in her
voice. Brad gripped her shoulder a bit tighter, trying to steady
her.

"But then why would she have called? She's always fine, Brad. Why
would she have called if she was fine?" she asked frantically.
Brad struggled for words as Fran let his arm go and put her phone
back into her pocket, turning on her heel and heading in the
direction from where they had come. "I've got to go find her."

Brad's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he jolted after her,
carefully taking her by the elbow to turn her back around.

"Whoa, whoa. At least tell the manager first, Fran."

"You tell him for me. I've got to go now. She could be hurt out
there. She sounds like she was crying. Tell Wayne I'll make up
for it in tomorrow's shift. It's an emergency."

Small sounds from the forest floor behind her made Saphora's back
arch as she ran. Normal noises, which were probably caused by her
own fast movements through the leaf and twig covered ground. Even
so, they tormented her, convincing her that Tebias was only a few
short steps away, mere moments away from cornering her again. And
without any answers to help her defend herself.

Finally, after a few more yards, she saw the opening of the
forest, which let out into the road. She smiled, curling her
hands into fists as she once again added a little more oomph to
her speed, hope powering her on. She looked to her side as she
ran, fumbling to take out her cell phone again and try dialing
Fran. With her jerky movements, it proved to be somewhat
difficult as she approached the side of the road.

She finally was able to pull it out as she ran onto the dark
pavement of the road. She gripped it tight in victory. But that
feeling was short lived. It was almost immediately replaced by
shock. Two bright headlights and an ear-ringing horn were the
last things she saw and heard before everything went black.

********

In the throne room of the castle of Kiran, Vida paced back and
forth in the corner of the room which served as her personal
library. The room was dimly lit, due to the time of day. Their
sun had begun to set some hours ago, and the lighting was turning
into a warm auburn. The white pillar walls of the throne room
were painted with the deep auburn, and the warmth of the sage
curtains seemed to be enhanced with the warm colour. She was in
deep thought, Vida. She was thinking about the past, once again,
and what she could have changed. She regretted so much, and she
was still wondering how to right her wrongs. Had she made the
right decision? What decision did she have to make to justify it?

"M'lady! M'lady! Tebias has made contact! He's made contact!" a
little thing by the name of Artemis shouted, running into the
throne room. Her large round glasses bouncing up and down on her
full cheeks. Her bedroom maroon eyes, enhanced by her glasses,
were wide and fearful. The queen, who was standing in front of
her personal bookshelf, turned almost immediately at hearing that
name. Her expression followed Artemis'.

"What?" she asked in disbelief.

"I've seen it. She was in a forest. She fell, and when she rose,
he was waiting for her."

"Fell? Fell from what? Where is she now? Where is Tebias?" the
queen asked, walking to meet Artemis half way into the room. The
height difference between the two was amazing. Vida, who stood at
five feet and eleven inches, towered over Artemis and her mere
four feet and ten inches. The bottom of Vida's white gown trailed
behind her as she hurried to Artemis, the silky fabric flowing
around her feet as she slowed to a stop. Artemis panted as she
tried to force words from her straining lungs.

"She's … She's been hit by one of Earth's land vehicles. Tebias
is unconscious. She was able to defend herself, but just barely,
M'lady," she explained through panting.

Vida's hand rose to her chest in what looked like relief. She
looked from side to side, giving herself a moment to think. To
think about Tebias, and the danger he proposed to her daughter.

"I thought he died with that spell … Even performed by her, it
was very powerful," she said, meaning to be said to herself.

"No, M'lady. He's survived, and is continuing to hunt her. He was
not killed in this battle either." Artemis said as she did. Fast
paced and articulate.

Her breathing had returned to normal, and so had her speech. She
was a fast talker. A side effect of her abilities. She had the
gifts of a photographic memory, extending knowledge with
foresight, and as a perk, the ability to manipulate gravity. Not
quite levitation, as Saphora had just grazed the surface of, but
merely adding or taking away gravity from anything, though not
anyone. Being the queen's advisor, she usually used the perk to
tend to the library. Walking up walls and bookshelves to organize
books, scrolls, or what have you, in zero gravity.

"Yes … It seems I've underestimated him, as I feared. Where is
Saphora now? Is she alright?" Artemis nodded.

"Yes. Her body, it's in a state of healing. She's unconscious,
but I cannot see where she is. Forgive me."

"It's alright, Artemis. Thank you. I will try to speak to her
again. How did she fall?" Vida asked, turning around and walking
back to her personal lib